


Too Hot (Hot Damn)

by ace_etta



Series: Jalapeno Cupcakes [1]
Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Baking, First Kiss, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-27
Updated: 2015-05-27
Packaged: 2018-04-01 13:28:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4021618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ace_etta/pseuds/ace_etta
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>And the next thing Jack knew he was frozen with his still tingling lips pressed to the corner of Bittle’s mouth where he couldn’t suppress his smile. He couldn’t remember getting this close to Bittle or leaning forward and down to reach his lips.His wrist was still caught in Bittle’s loose grasp and the milk carton was still dangling from his other hand.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Too Hot (Hot Damn)

**Author's Note:**

> Just a quick bit of fluff I whipped up based off [this](http://awful-aus.tumblr.com/post/119805469562/submitted-au-250>).

"And then Andrea, bless her heart, mixed up baking powder and baking _soda_. Can you believe it?" Bittle asked, looking over to where Jack was leaning up against the kitchen counter.

Jack, caught off guard by the sight of Bittle’s large eyes turning his way, could only manage a harsh, “No.”

Before he could even consider beating himself up about his reply, Bittle was off again about ‘that sweet girl who can’t bake to save her life’ Andrea and her baking disasters. Jack sighed in relief. He hadn’t been caught staring at the way light filtered through the short blonde hairs at the back of Bittle’s head. ‘No’ must have been the correct answer.

There was just something about Bittle that always managed to fluster Jack. When he first met Bittle, he responded to the warmth in his chest by being, as Shitty eloquently put it, “the largest of dicks, man, and not the fun kind either.” But they were past that. They became friends. Jack graduated, and that should have made things harder, but somehow it didn’t. Somehow they saw more of each other than they did when they lived together.

Which should have made him used to the way Bittle made him feel. It was simple psychology. Exposure therapy. The more he saw of Bittle, the less of an effect he should have, right? Well from the way he continued to fumble over himself and his words every time Bittle even looked at him, it wasn’t working.

He couldn’t help it when it came to Bittle. He was amazing. Jacked looked over to where the baker was pouring vibrant pink batter of some sort into a cake pan. As small and weak as he seemed in comparison to Jack, he clearly wasn’t. His thin arms were actually wrapped in lean muscle that barely even strained as he held the heavy mixing bowl in the crook of his arm. it was amazing and Jack felt his throat go dry and itchy in a way only Bittle had ever managed to.

With a cough, Jack tried to dispel the frog in his throat, but in doing so, he found himself catching Bittle’s attention. Bittle turned those large dark eyes back to him, but this time there was a hint of worry where his forehead wrinkled in between his brows.

“You okay? Not getting a cold, I hope.”

Bittle was right to worry. Three of Jack’s teammates had to sit out their last game due to colds. But Jack, as well as every other healthy player on the team, had practically bathed in hand sanitizer and vitamin C.

And Jack knew he should say something to allay Bittle’s fears. It’d be easy as saying, 'I’m fine' or 'Just a frog in my throat.' But he felt his mouth opening and he could feel the words sitting on the tip of his tongue, and none of the words were normal. Instead what was going to come out was incredibly embarrassing. Something along the lines of 'I think that wrinkle you get between your eyebrows is the cutest thing' or 'I really want to kiss you right now.'

And so Jack reacted the way any rational, emotionally stunted hockey player would: he panicked.

He smacked his hand on the counter, grabbed the first soft thing he could get his hands on, and shoved it in his mouth.

Bittle’s eyes widened, and Jack flushed. Shoving a whole cupcake in his mouth was a less than normal reaction to a seemingly simple question. He nearly groaned in embarrassment, when his mouth actually registered the flavor on his tongue. His eyes widened and made contact with Bittle’s. He couldn’t move.

His mouth was _on fire_.

“What the _fuck_.”

“Oh my god! Jack! Spit it out!”

Jack ran to the sink and immediately started retching. He fumbled for the taps to rinse out his mouth, but as soon as his hand hit cool metal, Bittle was there slapping his hand away from blessed relief.

“What the hell, Bittle?” he found himself shouting, but the way his mouth hung open, he ended up saying more closely resembling, “Wha’ uh ‘ell, its?”

“Water only spreads the peppers! You need-- you need? Milk! You need milk!”

Bittle wheeled from his spot in the middle of the kitchen to open the fridge. Frantically searching for milk, he quickly destroyed his own carefully maintained order.

After what felt to Jack like forever, Bittle emerged with a triumphant exclamation, which a small part of Jack found incredibly endearing, and milk, which the larger part of him found more important. Jack quickly grabbed the milk and began chugging it straight from the carton.

Once Jack’s aggressive chugging evolved into occasional sips, Bittle quietly asked, “Are you okay?”

“Bittle. What. The. Fuck. Was. That.”

“Um.” Bittle fiddled with the hem of his apron. Jack refused to find it cute. “Jalapeno puree cupcakes?”

“Why?”

Bittle blushed. Jack pointedly ignored the smear of color high on his cheeks.

“Well?” he prompted.

“I was trying to prank Ransom and Holster,” Bittle muttered.

“What?” Jack blinked.

Bittle raised his eyes from where they were inspecting his bare toes. Fire sparked in his eyes, and Jack nearly took a step back from the sheer force in his gaze. Instead, he just choked on his own spit.

“They keep stealing all my cupcakes! Even the ones for class! I almost failed my history midterm! If I hadn’t had a batch of cookies hidden behind the mixer . . . And I’ve told them! _Multiple times_! But do they listen? No! So I took matters into my own hands.”

At this point, he seemed to realize that he was talking to an unintended victim of him “taking matters into his own hands” and froze.

“But I never expected to get you involved, Jack! I was going to warn you, but then . . .” Bittle blushed thinking back to when he got caught up in his outrage at Andrea’s antics.

Jack frowned. “Jalapenos though?”

Bittle huffed and crossed his arms. “They deserve it.”

A smile creeped across Jack’s face. He tried to hide it behind a hand, but Bittle caught his wrist before he could raise it to his face.

“You think this is funny! This is serious business, Jack Zimmermann! Cupcake theft is no laughing matter!”

Jack almost sobered at the tone of Bittle’s voice, but then he caught sight of the smirk tugging at the corner of his stern frown.

And the next thing Jack knew he was frozen with his still tingling lips pressed to the corner of Bittle’s mouth where he couldn’t suppress his smile. He couldn’t remember getting this close to Bittle or leaning forward and down to reach his lips.His wrist was still caught in Bittle’s loose grasp and the milk carton was still dangling from his other hand. For a moment, the two boys were paralyzed.

Then ~~Bittle~~ _Eric_ (Jack figured a kiss meant he could safely call Eric by his first name) whispered, “Screw it,” dropped Jack’s hand, grabbed his face, and kissed him.

This kiss was stronger than the soft peck Jack had placed on Bittle’s lips, but regardless of the strength, the kiss stayed chaste. Dry lips on dry lips and persistent pressure.

Jack stayed frozen for a second. His brain struggled to comprehend what was happening and _his mouth still tasted like milk and jalapenos oh my god_. It was only a second, but it was long enough for Eric to begin pulling away.

And that wouldn’t do. So Jack threw his free arm around Eric’s back and pulled him closer. Eric let out a faint, “Oh!” before Jack sealed their lips together. Fumbling to find the counter while still keeping the kiss going, he eventually slapped the milk carton down and brought his now free hand up to bury in the short hairs at the nape of Eric’s neck.

As soon as his hand landed, he could feel Eric melt against him. Their soft, dry lips moved gently together, just past the far side of chaste. When Eric let out a sigh of pleasure, Jack let his tongue slip out and slide along Eric’s bottom lip. With a gasp, Eric fell back against the counter. The sudden movement forced their teeth to clash uncomfortably and Jack’s to bite down much too hard on the other boy’s lip.

“Ow!” Eric exclaimed, dropping a hand down to his lips.

“Are you okay?” Jack found himself whispering. He felt his face flood with warmth at the hoarseness of his voice. He coughed and tried to step back, but Eric was there instantly, dropping the hand at his lips to grab at Jack’s waist. A distant part of his mind noted the soft sweep of the thumb still sitting on his cheekbone.

“No you don’t, Jack Zimmermann. You get back here and you use your words.”

Jack nearly choked up at the words, but at the quiet warmth in Eric’s voice, he allowed himself to be reeled back in. He dropped his eyes to Eric’s red, kiss-bruised lips, and felt his face burn.

“I didn’t hurt you did I?” Jack whispered.

His hand rose as if to touch Eric’s lip, but he held it back at the last moment. Eric ignored the awkward way his hand stopped and then dropped in between them and kept his eyes on Jack’s.

“I’m _fine_. Now what was that all about, sweetheart?”

“I-I was j-just--” Jack cut himself off with a groan. How could Eric expect an answer when he was calling Jack ‘sweetheart’ in that hushed, fond way? He dropped his head onto Eric’s shoulder. They stopped, but Eric hesitantly placed a hand on the back of Jack’s head and rubbed calming circles into his dark hair. Jack let his body sag against Eric’s smaller one. After an indeterminate amount of time, Eric broke the silence.

“Jack?”

“Mmhmm?”

“Was it because you . . . _like __me?”_

For a moment, the silence in the Haus kitchen stretched uncomfortably, but then Jack gave a sharp nod into Eric’s shoulder.

“Oh.” Eric smiled. “Do you mind letting me put this cake in the oven, sweetheart?”

Jack jerked back.

“Of course.” He let out a strangled cough. “Of course. Yeah.”

Eric caught his hand and smiled when the dark haired boy turned slowly back to face him.

“Then can we maybe go to my room and cuddle while it bakes?”

A ridiculous feeling smile spread across Jack’s face as he nodded vigorously, and Eric’s shy smile grew into something similarly wide and bright and ridiculous.

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think (or if I made any glaring errors)!


End file.
